To Do His Part
by Master FandM
Summary: Fin has left SVU and is back in Narcotics.
1. Default Chapter

Title: To Do His Part (1/6)

Author: Master F&M

Fandom: Law and Order: SVU

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Fin has left SVU and is back in Narcotics. Runs within the timeline of Infinity.

Disclaimer: Law and Order: SVU and all its characters belong to Dick Wolf. I just get to play with them

Author's Note: Sam is a character of my own creation. She does not exist on the show.

Feedback: Please give some. For entertainment purposes only.

CHAPTER 1

Fin sat in the unmarked car keeping a close watch on his partner. He didn't really expect to have any trouble from the person they were meeting here today, but he'd learned from his last go round in Narcotics that you could never really be certain about anything when it came to drugs or to drug money. He'd already lost one partner. He wasn't about to lose another.

He sat up when someone in a jogging suit stopped a few feet from Mike, but relaxed again when the person continued past him. Apparently, it wasn't who they were waiting for. Fin looked at his watch and frowned. It was getting late. Their contact was supposed to have been here thirty minutes ago. He decided they'd give it a few more minutes then pack it in. No dealer in his right mind would wait out here in the freezing cold just for a messenger, so neither would they.

"How you holding up, Sandoval?" Fin spoke into his radio, and watched as Mike wiped his nose on his sleeve, addressing the mic that was tucked into its cuff.

"Other than freezing my butt off? This guy's late."

"Hang tight for a few more, then we'll call it quits, alright?"

Sandoval didn't answer. Instead, he rubbed his hands together and rocked his body back and forth. To anyone else watching, he looked just like any of the other junkies out there tonight jonesin' for a fix. Fin had to give it to him. Sandoval had one of the best _strung out_ acts he had ever seen. But Fin had learned to read him. He knew it meant 'yeah' just as clearly as if Mike had spoken the word out loud.

Fin had initially balked when his old captain had paired him up again with the younger man. True, by then Sandoval _did _have a few more years under his belt, but, as a sergeant, Fin had wanted to be partnered with someone he knew from his first tour in the department. Someone with a lot more experience. He'd come back to Narcotics to make a difference; to do his part in trying to stop the disease that was quickly threatening to take over every aspect of the urban life he'd grown up in. The last thing he wanted was to have to explain himself to someone who didn't know him and how he worked, or to have to spend a lot of time watching his partner's every move for mistakes.

Capt. Pezzelli had been adamant though. He'd considered Fin to be one of the best detectives he'd ever had in his unit, with great instincts when it came to undercover work. He'd also had a lot of hope for Sandoval, and had wanted him to learn from Fin. Besides, he'd pointed out, most of the people Fin had worked with before were no longer there. They had either retired, or transferred out of the department.

Fin was about to radio to Mike to bring in the operation, when a kid approached the bench where he was sitting. Fin listened to their conversation for a few seconds, then got out of the car and followed them into the shadows of a nearby tree.

"What's this?" Fin joined the duo and scowled at the boy who'd jumped at the sound of his voice.

"What we have here," Sandoval mocked the boy, "is a very generous young man. He just sold me three dimes for the price of two on account of the fact that Christmas is coming. Not too smart, though. Told me his name is Jamal."

Fin looked at the culprit again and sighed inwardly. _They get younger all the time. _

"How old are you, boy?"

The would-be dealer glared at Fin, then turned his head without answering. Fin glared back at him. "I asked you a question, son."

"You ain't my daddy!" Jamal shot out. "So don't call me son. And I ain't no little boy!"

Fin's scowl deepened. "You ain't? What are you then? You think you're a_ man_ 'cause you're out here with your little bags of weed?" Fin bent over and moved within inches of the boy's face.

"Then how about I run your punk ass in, huh?" he yelled. "How about you do some time in the lock-up?"

Jamal's eyes widened with the thought. Suddenly afraid, he looked more like the ten-year-old that he was than the tough street kid he was pretending to be.

"I gotta go to jail?" The question came out more of a whisper than he'd intended.

"You out here dealing, ain't you?" Fin was determined to put the fear of God in him. "That's what happens to people who sell drugs. They go to jail. Dealers eventually_ get killed _or_ go to jail._"

Jamal's eyes started to brim with tears. "But I ain't a dealer. That was my cousin's stuff,_ I swear_." He looked from Fin to Sandoval, then back to Fin.

"He left it at my house when he came to visit, and I wanted some money for Christmas 'cause I never have any, and my little brother wanted this toy, and I wanted to get somethin' for my mom, so I just thought I could sell it, you know?" Jamal's words tumbled out of his mouth as he tried to explain as fast as he could.

Mike looked over at his partner, who, despite Jamal's impassioned pleas, was continuing to glare at himHe knew it was an act. He could tell from the look in Fin's eyes that Fin had already decided to let the kid go.Mike had had some problems with that at first. As far as he was concerned, a dealer was a dealer was dealer. It hadn't mattered to him how old they were. If they did the crime, then they ought to do the time.

But Fin didn't think that way. He actually wanted to try to save some of these little perps.He showed no mercy with adults, _but with the kids_ . . . He held a soft spot for them. Sandoval wasn't sure if it was because of his partner's own four boys, but whenever Fin came across a minor with no priors who had, for whatever reason, gotten involved in some small time deal, he would usually scare the hell out of them, then let them go with a warning and a promise to never do it again. Sometimes he even managed to extract some volunteer time out of them at one of the local shelters or community center in exchange for getting off. Then he kept tabs on them.

In the beginning, Mike had thought this practice meant his seasoned partner had gone soft. That is, until one day they came across a kid, whom Fin had previously let go, dealing again. Fin had laid into him so badly that by the time everything was said and done, the kid had preferred to be locked up in juvie hall than to have to face him again. Mike was on board after that. He got it now. Fin wasn't about making the most collars or trying to save the most kids. He was about trying to make the most difference where it counted.

"And why should I believe you?" Fin was still threatening Jamal with jail time. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't haul your butt down to the station right now."

"I don't know, man. I don't know." Jamal was on the verge of tears. "I swear I ain't got no more stuff. You could come check my house and see for yourself. _Please_. I don't wanna get locked up."

Fin's expression softened. "Where are your parents?"

"I don't know where my dad is. He left a couple years ago," Jamal answered honestly. He sensed a reprieve might be coming and didn't want to do anything to blow it. "My mom's at home with my little brother."

"She know you out here?"

"Naw. I told her I was going to my friend's house."

Fin frowned at him. "Ain't nothin' worse than somebody who lies to their own mother."

Jamal looked down at the ground, too embarrassed to meet Fin's stare. Fin took him by the arm and sat him in the backseat of his car.

"I'm gonna take you home so you can tell your mom all about what you've been up to." He closed the door and leaned into the window.

"Then I and my partner are gonna forget this happened. But don't ever let me catch you out here with dope again. I'm giving you a second chance to do things right. There ain't gonna be a third, you hear me?"

Jamal nodded nervously. "Yeah, I hear you. You won't ever see me again."

Sandoval watched as Fin straightened up and headed back over to him. "Sergeant Tutuola," He kidded him when Fin got close enough to hear. "The cop with a heart." He made a fist and placed it on his chest.

"It kinda gets you right here."

"Whatever."

He nodded toward the car. "You think you straightened him out?"

Fin shrugged. "Let's hope so. For his sake anyway." He was quiet for a moment, thinking of his own sons the same age. "When I'm done with him, I'm gonna head on home. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, okay. Tomorrow."

Fin walked back over to the car and got in. He looked at Jamal in the rearview mirror.

"Don't go thinking you got off easy. Everything you do now best be done looking over your shoulder 'cause I'm probably gonna be there." Jamal looked horrified, then resigned.

"Yes, sir."


	2. Chapter 2

Title: To Do His Part (2/6)

Author: Master F&M

Fandom: Law and Order: SVU

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Fin has left SVU and is back in Narcotics. Runs within the timeline of Infinity.

Disclaimer: Law and Order: SVU and all its characters belong to Dick Wolf. I just get to play with them

Author's Note: Sam is a character of my own creation. She does not exist on the show.

Feedback: Please give some. For entertainment purposes only.

CHAPTER 2

Fin entered the penthouse to the sound of loud singing coming from the den. He smiled as he hung up his jacket. He loved coming home to a noisy family. He still so clearly remembered the nights he dreaded leaving work just to have to go home to his far too quiet and lonely apartment.

He made out the voices of his four boys, but couldn't tell what they were saying. Singing off-key and in different rhythms, they were obviously trying to drown each other out as well by singing at the top of their voices. They were also not all performing the same song. Fin didn't hear Sam, but wondered how she could possibly stand it.

Folding his arms across his chest, he leaned against the doorframe leading into the den to listen some more. He knew his boys could be a handful. It seems that they had inherited the same penchant for getting into trouble that he'd had when he was a kid. Nothing serious; just the kind of mischief that could make any sane woman living with five males lose her composure every now and again. He was proud of his sons, though. They were all good boys– even if they did gang up on their mother every once in a while.

The singing came to an end, and Fin could hear Munch laughing in appreciation of their efforts.

"I don't know about the four of you," he was saying, "but I think that was truly inspired. A_ beautiful_ melange of cultural tributes parleyed into a harmonious blending of holiday spirit. Well done, my young friends. _Well done_."

Fin peeked into the room and saw Munch sitting in a chair, holding court in the middle of the group. Johnathon, who at nine was already taller than the ten-year-old twins Calvin and Corey, was perched on the armrest to his left. Deon, eight, sat on his right. The twins, the more hyperactive of the lot, were waltzing around the room with imaginary partners. Fin chuckled. Sam would be happy to know that her dance lessons were sticking.

"Shall we take it from the top?" Munch addressed his charges. "Except this time, Deonwhy don't _you_ sing 'Kwanzaa's Here'? Johnny, my boy, you give ol' 'Jingle Bells' a whirl, and the dancing fools over there can put their own personal spin on 'The Dreidel Song.'" The twins laughed and came over to stand in front of him. Munch held up his hands.

"Ready? And a one, and a two and . . . "

Fin watched Munch sit back with a satisfied smile as the quartet let loose with a cacophony of sounds. Fin wasn't sure what Munch was getting out of creating such a din, but he certainly appeared to be enjoying himself. He waited a few more minutes before he entered the room.

"What's with all the racket?"

The boys surrounded their father and finished their songs with a flourish before dissolving into giggles. Fin shook his head at them.

"You see, boys?" Munch smirked at his old partner. "Your father needs to learn to appreciate the diversity of your cultures as much as we do."

"Yeah, Dad, get with it." Corey grinned and spread his arms out to encompass the room. "We're only trying to get in touch with our heritage. There's _so much_ of it, you know."

Fin laughed. He was very glad for the fact that his kids had several cultural roots in their background. He always thought that it made for a more tolerant person. The holidays in the Tutuola home stretched on for weeks as they celebrated Hanukkah, Christmas _and_ Kwanzaa.

"Yeah, well, that's 'cause you're a bunch of mutts."

Corey dropped his jaw, then turned to his twin. "Did he just call us mutts?" He turned to his other two brothers.

"I _think_ he just called us mutts. You know, like, bow wow?" All four turned to glare at their father.

Fin began a slow, backward retreat as they advanced on him. He faked a twist to the right, then turned left, but he never stood a chance. Soon he was on the floor at the bottom of a pile of adolescent indignation, with each of his boys twisting one of his limbs and demanding that he yell 'uncle!'. Munch joined in the fray by encouraging them to twist harder and advising them to make him yell 'Uncle Munch!' instead. Fin laughed until his sides hurt.

Sam came into the room to see what all the commotion was about. Her heart swelled at the sight of her husband on the floor wrestling with their sons. She stood and watched them for a little while, preserving the image in her mind's eye, before announcing that dinner was ready. Fin got up, slightly out of breath, and dusted himself off.

"Hey, baby."

Sam smiled at him. "Hey, yourself."

Fin held her in a light embrace and kissed her to a chorus of 'Aw, man!', 'Eww!' and 'Yuck!'.

Fin smiled back at his sons, then quickly kissed her again. He never held back displaying the affection he felt for their mother in front of them. He, in fact, _wanted_ them to see it. He wanted them to know how they should treat the person they loved most in the world.

"Don't worry guys," Munch never missed an opportunity to take their side over Fin's. "You'll get used to it."

He nodded his head toward Fin and Sam, then rolled his eyes. "_Eventually_."

"No way,PopPop," Johnathon walked away shaking his head. "That is just _way _too gross."

Fin laughed. "Let's see how you feel in a couple of years. For now, though, just go get washed up."

The boys headed off to the bathroom while Munch gathered up his things to go. It always did his heart good to spend an afternoon here with Sam and the boys.

Now that they were getting older, she was occasionally taking on assignments that she could pretty much work from her office at home. The boys being Tutuolas, however, required that someone needed to keep an eye on them to ensure that they didn't completely wreck the place while she was working. That's where he came in. A few days a week, while Tori was at her gallery, Papa Munch kept the boys busy while Sam toiled away in her office.

John hadn't been comfortable with being referred to as the boys' grandfather. Even though he hated the way his brother treated Sam, John still didn't want to usurp his role as the grandfather to her children. After some debate, he and Sam had decided on Papa Munch as an appropriate title instead. Over the years, however, it had mutated so that now he was called everything from Papa Munch, to Papa Bear, to PopPop. He didn't mind, though. It all meant the same thing to him: he was loved. And after seven years of retirement, it felt good to be needed again. Munch liked to think the boys were helping to keep him young. It also didn't hurt that it irked Fin that they were beginning to pick up some of his habits.

"Are you sure you can't stay for dinner, Uncle John?"

"Sorry, Princess. Tori and I are having a romantic dinner out tonight." He gave her a kiss on the cheek on the way to the door, before turning to Fin.

"And if I were you, I'd start worrying. Those boys had you pinned so tight you couldn't move."

"I _was_ at the bottom of a dog pile."

"_Dog _pile More like _puppy _pile, wasn't it?" He chuckled at his own joke as he left.

"I kill myself. I slay me."

Fin shook his head as he closed the door, then walked Sam into the dining room. It was good to be sitting down to dinner together. He liked being able to look around the table and see his kids' happy faces. Their happy and _safe_ faces. It helped to reinforce his decision to have gone back to Narcotics. He needed to keep them that way. Them and a whole lot of others like them. Even if it did keep him away from the dinner table a few nights a week.

Sam watched Fin as he talked and joked around with the boys as they ate. _Ten years._ Their anniversary was coming up, and she found it amazing that she still felt a thrill whenever he smiled.

"So what kind of trouble did you all get into today?"

Fin had asked the question as a joke, but the table went quiet as the boys suddenly decided they were still very hungry and began shoveling food into their mouths. Fin glanced at each of them, then looked at Sam. She had wanted to wait until he'd had a chance to relax before giving him the news, but guessed now was as good a time as any.

"Calvin and Corey tried to kill Deon today." She hated referring to them as 'the twins'. She wanted each of her boys to be individuals; each with their own place in the family.

Fin slowly put down his knife and fork. "What?"

"Yup." Sam was taking it lightly now, but at the time of the incident, she had been apoplectic.

"Before Uncle Munch came over, I sent the boys to their rooms to do some reading. But instead of doing that, they decided to hook a rope over the ceiling fan to see if the motor was strong enough to spin Deon around the room while he was wearing his Superman cape. You know, so he could fly?" She closed her eyes at the thought.

"Well, it wasn't strong enough, and the whole thing nearly collapsed on top of him."

It took every ounce of self-control Fin ever possessed to not laugh at the image of his youngest son spinning around the room wearing a cape. He took a moment and rubbed his hand across his forehead before looking at them.

"Why did you do that?"

Calvin shrugged. "Like Mom said, we wanted to see if we could make him fly."

Fin looked over at Johnathon. He considered him to be the most levelheaded of the group. "And what were _you_ doing during all of this?"

"Watching."

"Watching? And you didn't think to stop them?"

Corey answered for him. "He was the one who gave us the idea to use Deon." Fin looked from one to the other. He turned back to Johnathon who shrugged.

"They _wanted _to use a bowling ball." Fin sat back.

"All right. Go to your rooms. No. Go to Deon's room and wait for me there." He watched the boys get up and file out of the room. Sam started to clear the table.

"You really need to talk to them."

"I know. I am."

"Yes, but maybe _this_ time you could do it without sounding so proud of them." Fin laughed.

"I don't do that."

"No? Well, how about the time they threw baseballs up at the ceiling while the fan was on because they wanted to see if it could get a hit? _You _asked what its batting average was. Or the time they sprayed hair spray on the dust bunnies they'd been collecting then ran over them with roller blades because Johnathon saw on the Discovery channel that they might ignite . . . _and it_ _worked_?"

"Come on now, you gotta admit that_ that_ was kinda cool."

"Fin."

"Alright, alright." Still chuckling a little, Fin hugged her to him. "I'll talk to them. _For_ _real_. But, baby, they're boys. They're gonna do some of this kind of stuff."

"I know that. But shouldn't it be the exception instead of the norm?"

Fin looked at his wife and saw the worry in her eyes. He, instead, preferred to see the laughter that was usually there. Tucking a loose curl back behind her ear, he hugged her again.

"I'll get through to them."

"Thank you." She kissed him. "It was a nice surprise having you home for dinner tonight. I wasn't expecting it."

She turned and started toward the kitchen with the dishes. Fin headed for Deon's room, then stopped. He turned to look at Sam.

"You know that I wanna be here, though, right? That I try to be?" Sam turned to answer.

"I know, baby." She regretted her offhand remark. "I knew what I was getting into when I married a cop. I understand. The boys understand, too. We're proud of what you do."

Fin nodded, smiled, then went to talk to his boys. He stopped outside the room Deon shared with Johnathon to listen to what they were doing. The penthouse was big enough that, if they used the guest rooms, each of the boys could have their own rooms, but Fin had wanted them to share. He thought they'd learn to get along better that way.

He pushed the door open and stared into the room. The boys were all seated on one bed in a show of solidarity. Fin looked up to the ceiling at the remaining wires that once powered the ceiling fan. Sam had taken the rest of it down. He went in and shut the door behind him.

"You're gonna pay to have that fixed, so don't expect an allowance for a while." The boys looked down at the floor and said nothing. Fin sighed.

"Look. I know stuff like this seems like a fun idea at the time, but I _know_ you know you shouldn't have done it. D could've really gotten hurt. So could the rest of you." He leaned against the door.

"You want that?" Each boy answered no. Fin's voice hardened.

"What really gets me is that your mom sent you in here to _read_. You disobeyed her, and for that, you're all grounded for a week. No TV, no video games. Y'all can practice your reading skills then." He looked at them to make sure they were paying attention.

"I ain't have to do any spanking in a while, but don't think I forgot how." The boys squirmed under the memory.

"And I think you owe your mother an apology. Don't do it now, 'cause I don't want her to think you're only doing it because I'm telling you to. But make sure you do it. You guys have been getting a little out of hand lately. She ain't happy about it, and if Mom ain't happy, . . . "

". . . ain't _NOBODY_ happy." The boys joined Fin in finishing the Tutuolas' number one rule.

"That's right. Now get your rooms cleaned up and get ready for bed. I'll be back in a little while to check on you."

Fin left the room, deciding that when he came back, he'd tell them that Sam had insisted that Fin give them an hour of play time. They'd be grateful to her then, and would go out of their way to stay out of trouble. Fin grinned as he thought about it. _For a while, anyway._


	3. Chapter 3

Title: To Do His Part (3/6)

Author: Master F&M

Fandom: Law and Order: SVU

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Fin has left SVU and is back in Narcotics. Runs within the timeline of Infinity.

Disclaimer: Law and Order: SVU and all its characters belong to Dick Wolf. I just get to play with them

Author's Note: Sam is a character of my own creation. She does not exist on the show.

Feedback: Please give some. For entertainment purposes only.

CHAPTER 3

Fin looked across the table at Tony 'Two Tone' Angelino and Mack, his enforcer. The latter was a short, squat man who was, and hence his nickname, built like a Mack truck. He and Tony went back all the way to high school, where Tony had, during an unfortunate free-basing accident, partially burned the left side of his face. The incident had left him scarred, with his new skin growth never quite matching the same color as his old. Mack had taken it upon himself to defend his friend by beating the crap out of anyone who dared to make fun of the discoloration, and Tony had never forgotten his allegiance. Years later, when Tony had moved up from user, to small time dealer, to major player, he had tapped Mack to be his right hand man. No one questioned Angelino's loyalty to Mack, and woe be to anyone who tried to get past Mack to do Angelino any harm.

Sandoval took his standing position behind Fin. Dressed in a three-piece Versace and expensive jewelry, nothing about him resembled the strung out junkie he had played at being three days ago. Nevertheless, Mack kept a close eye on him. The word on the street, the very same word that Fin had had all his informants spread about the new players in town, was that this wiry little Puerto Rican was no one to mess with. Quick with a gun an_d a_ knife, rumor had it he could kill a man and disappear before the body even hit the floor. Under normal circumstances, Mack would have liked to have taken him on; for bragging rights if nothing else. But Tony was here today to discuss business, and Tony didn't like it when his business got interrupted.

Fin continued to stare at Angelino as Tony stared back. As was often the case with dealers doing business with someone new for the first time, each man wanted to assess the other before laying anything out on the table. It was also a rule of the game that the person who spoke first needed the other more than the other needed him.

Fin looked at his diamond-crusted Geneve watch, then settled his gaze back on Angelino. The silent gesture spoke volumes. Both men knew Fin had the upper hand; that time was on his side. While Fin's dealer persona, Ice Mendoza, reportedly had a very successful Los Angeles- based business and was looking to expand it here in New York, all the major players knew that Angelino was having trouble unloading his merchandise. Apparently, several of his runners, thanks mostly to sting operations headed by Fin and Sandoval, had been taken down. The lack of successful transportation of his goods had made other dealers wary of using him as their supplier, so that now Angelino was left holding a lot more product than he had buyers for. He needed to unload his stuff, and he needed to do it quickly if he wanted to hold on to his territory. He knew it, and he knew Mendoza knew it. Angelino blinked first.

"So I hear you're in the market for a shipment. That you need a big score."

Ice sneered at him. "I don't_ need_ anything. I'm just here to weigh my options." He leaned across the table and smiled genially.

"But I hear _you're_ having a small problem dumping your goods." Ice let Angelino know exactly where he stood.

Tony sat back in his chair and shook his head a little. "Nothing serious. I expect the matter to be cleared up soon."

Sandoval made a mental note to check out the assertion. He wanted to put the question to their informants to see if Tony had acquired any new runners. More than likely he was just bluffing, but Sandoval wanted to be sure.

"Yeah? Maybe. But in the meantime," Ice wasn't buying it, "you have a lot of stuff you need to get rid of. So why don't we just cut the crap and get down to business? I have other people to see, and you're wasting my time."

Tony tried to not let his discomfort show. He needed this deal. And if Mendoza was as big a player as he'd heard he was, then he could make Tony a lot of money. He nodded his head at Ice, signaling that he understood Ice had the better position and that any transactions between them needed to reflect that.

"What are your terms?" Angelino conceded the standoff.

"Why don't you make me an offer I can't refuse?" Ice gave Tony a friendly smile. Behind him, Sandoval laughed at the joke. Mack glared at him, but said nothing.

"I see your man, Gonzalez, has a sense of humor."

"No reason why he shouldn't. We enjoy life. We like to have a good time." He shook a finger in Tony's direction.

"See, that's what's wrong with you New York types. You're so serious all the time." He looked back at Gonzalez for affirmation, who laughed again.

Tony looked from one to the other. "Alright. Then this should make you really happy: Take the best deal you get from any of the other suppliers - You're looking at Cruz and Rodriguez, right? - and I'll lower the price by ten percent."

Ice dropped his smile and squinted across the table. "Who I do business with is _my_ business. And an offer like that only comes from somebody who's desperate. I don't do business with desperate men. They're too easy to flip."

Tony held up a hand to ward off the suspicion of being forced to work with the cops. "Hear me out. The offer is a one time deal only. Sort of a 'Welcome to the Neighborhood', if you will." This time it was Mack who gave a small laugh. Gonzalez flashed him a huge grin.

"After that," Tony continued, "if you like the product, and the deal goes smoothly, then we continue to do business at the regular going rate." He sat back, confident that Mendoza wouldn't find a better deal with any of his competitors.

"Everybody's happy."

Ice gave him the once over while he appeared to be thinking over the deal. "We use my people for the pickup. And it's my call- my place and my time."

Angelino peered at him, then nodded. "I got no beef with that." They sat in silence for a few minutes. Again, Tony was the first to speak.

"So, we got a deal?"

Ice gave him another friendly grin. "Yeah, we got a deal. I wasn't looking forward to doing business with Cruz or Rodriguez anyway. I hate Dominicans."

Tony nodded in understanding. He assumed that Mendoza, being from Los Angeles, must be part Mexican. It was a well known fact that Mexicans and Dominicans didn't get along.

"I'll be hearing from you then."

Angelino held out his hand. Ice reached across the table and shook it before yanking Tony's arm forward, pulling him across the table. Before Mack had a chance to react, Gonzalez had drawn a knife and was holding it against Tony's throat. Angelino looked into Mendoza's icy stare.

"You screw me over," he warned Tony, "and you won't live a day to tell about it. You got that?" Tony gave a small nod. Mendoza smiled at him again.

"Good." He released Tony's arm and Gonzalez withdrew the knife. Mendoza stood to go. "Nice doing business with you."

Gonzalez waited until Mendoza was halfway to the door before he started his own backward retreat toward it. Reaching the exit, he gave Mack a salute and a bow, never taking his eyes off him, before withdrawing completely.

Tony took in the look on Mack's face. He was livid.

"Forget it, Mack. That's just how those Los Angeles types are. Too much sun or something. This guy is gonna make us a ton of money, so we'll play nice for now, alright?"

Mack nodded.

Outside, Fin and Sandoval climbed into the Hummer they'd procured for the operation and drove off. Neither said anything until they'd driven a good mile away without incident. A few yards back, the other cars in their detail, assigned to them as backup, began to peel away and headed back to the station house. Sandoval turned to Fin.

"You sure it was a good idea to piss Mack off like that? You know how protective he is of Angelino."

"Yeah." Fin continued to watch his rearview mirror for any signs that they were being followed.

"We're gonna need to get past him to bring in Tony alive. When you're pissed off, you tend to let your emotions get the better of you. You're also more likely to make mistakes. That's what I'm counting on."

The DA's plan was to arrest Angelino, then use him to help bring down some of his competitors in exchange for a life sentence instead of the death penalty. No one held out any illusions that Mack could be taken while he was still breathing.

Sandoval nodded. "Okay. So when does this all go down?"

"We'll give it a few days, then I'll call and set it up." Sandoval nodded again. They drove the rest of the way in silence.


	4. Chapter 4

Title: To Do His Part (4/6)

Author: Master F&M

Fandom: Law and Order: SVU

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Fin has left SVU and is back in Narcotics. Runs within the timeline of Infinity.

Disclaimer: Law and Order: SVU and all its characters belong to Dick Wolf. I just get to play with them

Author's Note: Sam is a character of my own creation. She does not exist on the show.

Feedback: Please give some. For entertainment purposes only.

CHAPTER 4

Fin and Sandoval sat in their borrowed Hummer outside the designated drop site. They'd gotten there early. Fin had wanted to make sure that their backup team was in place, but nowhere in sight. He'd also wanted to do sound checks on their equipment. He and Mike had already done a short walkthrough of the warehouse to be certain that their mics would transmit from inside the building. Several yards away in an unmarked van, Capt. Pezzelli and the surveillance team would be monitoring the entire transaction, and hopefully getting Angelino on tape while he hung himself. If they could connect him to the drugs, then they could connect him to the murders associated with the drugs. With that, Fin thought they should have enough to get Angelino to rollover on Cruz and Rodriguez.

Joining Fin and Sandoval this time were two other detectives from Narcotics, Miller and Williams. Both were hulking figures who had aided Fin in several operations in the past, and who would be acting as Ice's men, purportedly here to help them with the pickup and to make sure they didn't get jacked for their money.

Sandoval looked over at his partner. Fin didn't look the least bit nervous. Sure, once the ball got rolling, Sandoval never had a problem putting on his game face. But until then, he still felt a knot in his stomach every time they handled one of these take downs. It kind of irked him that _Fin _never seemed to be too affected by it, though.

"Doesn't this ever get to you?" Mike adjusted the tie clip that held his transmitter. "Don't you ever get a little juiced before taking out one of these guys?"

Fin turned and looked at him briefly. "I'm juiced." His voice was flat and monotone. "I'm juiced to the top."

"Just don't get _too_ excited, sergeant," Pezzelli answered from the van. "We want this done by the book. We don't want to give him any room to wriggle, you got it?"

"Yeah." Fin looked out the window at the sound of an approaching car. He turned to Sandoval.

"You up for this?"

"_Si_, _jefe,_" Mike answered in Spanish, game face on. "Hagamos esto."

"Let's go."

Ice got out of the car, then waited for Gonzalez to fish a bag out of the trunk and come around to his side before stepping away from it. Together, they walked the few feet to where Angelino and Mack stood waiting. Mack held a briefcase in his hand. Miller and Williams also climbed out of their car, but stayed behind.

"I love winter in New York, don't you?" Angelino turned up the collar on his coat, then dug his hands into his pockets. Ice gave him a cold look.

"No. What I love is being in my jacuzzi talking on my cell phone. Now, _that_ I love. This . . . " he looked up at the gray sky. ". . . this I _don't_ love. The sooner we get this done, the sooner I can get back to L.A."

"Alright, then. If you'll just step inside, we'll get to business." Both pairs started for the warehouse. Angelino stopped and held up his hands when he noticed Miller and Williams following.

"Whoa! Whoa! What's this?" He nodded toward them. "Who are they?"

Ice looked over his shoulder. "Thing One and Thing Two. What's it to you?"

"They don't need to be a part of this."

"Like hell they don't. That's the way this was supposed to go down: _my_ place,_my_ people." He drew his head back and peered at Angelino.

"You tryin' toplay me?"

Before Ice reached the end of the question, Gonzalez had drawn his gun and had it pointed directly at Angelino's head. Mack, who'd been watching Gonzalez intensely since he'd gotten out of the car, drew his gun at the first sign of movement and had it, likewise, directed at Ice. Mendoza swore.

"I don't need this."

"Gentlemen," Angelino tried to diffuse the situation. He knew he needed Mendoza's business. He'd already lost more than half his usual customers.

"Let's just calm down." He turned to Ice. "All I'm sayin' is that with your two extra men, that kinda leaves me and my man outnumbered. You can understand my concern, can't you? That's all I'm saying."

Ice frowned. He gave a small nod to Gonzalez who lowered his arm and put his gun away. Reluctantly, Mack did the same. Ice spoke to Angelino.

"I'm beginning to lose patience with this whole thing. My men were part of the deal. If we're gonna do business, let's do it now so I can get the hell out of this coldass place. I ain't into all this New York gangster shit."

Tony scrutinized Ice then took another look at Miller and Williams. What choice did he really have?

"All right. Let's take this inside."

Tony and Mack entered the warehouse first, followed by Ice and Gonzalez. Miller and Williams lagged a few feet behind.

Back at the van, Pezzelli listened as the money and drugs changed hands. Waiting for Fin to give the code words to send in the rest of the team, he heard it in Fin's next sentence.

"This is all we need."

"It's a go!" Pezzelli barked into his radio. "All teams advance."

Pezzelli strained to hear as narcs and tactical teams swarmed the building. Tony swore loudly in surprise. Fin was then clearly heard identifying himself as police, and informing Angelino that he was under arrest. The announcement was followed by a gunshot.

"Tutuola! Sandoval! Report."

"The enforcer's down, sir." Sandoval's voice came through the radio. "Williams got him."

"Fine." Pezzelli was surprised he was still alive. "Let's wrap this up quickly and take it back to the station house. The DA's going to want to talk to Angelino as soon as possible before word gets out that we have him."

"Got it."

Pezzelli put down the radio. All things considered, this operation had gone pretty smoothly. They'd gotten the man they'd wanted, and it hadn't even cost them the enforcer. Tutuola had been right in suggesting they take out Angelino's runners before going after him. It had apparently weakened him to the point where he must have lost a lot of his people. They had expected him to have a lot more manpower here to back him up.

Pezzelli rubbed his eyes. He'd take the collar, though, any way he could get it. He started to climb out of the van when two shots rang out from inside the building. They were followed by several others.

"10-13! Officer down! Officer down!" Sandoval's panicked voice shouted over the radio. "My partner's been shot! Call for an ambulance!"

Pezzelli jumped from the van and ran toward the building.

"Hang in there, partner."

Sandoval had never actually had to fire his weapon in the line of duty before, let alone been responsible for taking someone's life. But faced with the prospect of his partner dying, he would gladly do it again and fire off another dozen rounds at Mack.

"Help's on the way."

"What the hell happened?" Pezzelli knelt down beside Mike and looked at Fin. He was covered in his own blood with two gaping holes in his chest.

"It was the enforcer. Mack. He went down and Williams took his piece. He must've had another one. No one noticed he'd regained consciousness." Sandoval was clearly shaken. He turned to Pezzelli, his eyes full of guilt.

"Mack was gunning for _me_. He was trying to take _me_ out. Fin got between us. He just shoved me out of the way . . ." his voiced trailed off.

Pezzelli laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. He knew how upset Tutuola had been when he'd lost his last Narcotics partner. It was, after all, the reason why he'd left the department in the first place. He understood Fin wouldn't have let it happen again.

_Stay with us, Tutuola. _Their voices sounded very far away to him. _Don't you bail._

Fin lay on his back and stared at the ceiling. If he concentrated hard enough, he could breathe without it hurting too much.

_Where the hell is that ambulance?_

It wouldn't be long now. Already the pain was beginning to fade, and he was feeling extremely light. Light enough to float.

_Don't do it, man. Don't you do this to me._

He wondered how long it would take him to reach the ceiling.

_What, partner? What is it? _

As he began to ascend, a single thought caused Fin to force himself down again.

"Sam."


	5. Chapter 5

Title: To Do His Part (5/6)

Author: Master F&M

Fandom: Law and Order: SVU

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Fin has left SVU and is back in Narcotics. Runs within the timeline of Infinity.

Disclaimer: Law and Order: SVU and all its characters belong to Dick Wolf. I just get to play with them

Author's Note: Sam is a character of my own creation. She does not exist on the show.

Feedback: Please give some. For entertainment purposes only.

CHAPTER 5

Sam stood over the stove stirring the sauce she'd prepared for dinner. Since it was going to be just the two of them tonight, she was making her spaghetti in honor of the first dinner she'd ever cooked for Fin. She was excited about their ten-year anniversary coming up, and was trying to re-enact as much of that first dinner as possible. She'd even pulled out the old Star Wars movies to watch.

She was glad the case Fin was currently working on was almost over. She knew he wasn't supposed to tell her much about his work, but since she had enough clearance with the Bureau to find out what she wanted to know anyway, he figured he might as well. He'd confided to her earlier that morning that his department expected to close out his operation today. Sam was more than happy about it. She hated it when he went undercover, putting himself in even more danger than usual. Federal agent or not, like any other cop's wife, she feared what could happen to him on those assignments. Sam shook her head to clear away the unpleasant thought. At least tonight it would be over. Over, that is, until the next time.

Sam checked the pie she had baking in the oven. It was ready, so she took it out to cool. She always tried to have a little celebration for Fin whenever he cleared a case. She knew how important the work he was doing was to him, and wanted him to know that she, at least, appreciated it. Not that others didn't. It's just that more often than not, Fin only got to see the downside of his job: the dealers and users who _hated_ him for what he did. To counter that, she always made sure to end each of his cases with a little reward, and tonight's would be special. She was planning on having a nice, hot bath waiting for him when he got home, then, after he'd had a chance to soak and relax, the anniversary dinner, followed by a massage while he watched his movie. She smiled to herself. She didn't think they'd get too far into the movie.

Sam turned the heat down on the sauce and went to answer the door when the bell rang. She hoped Gerrie hadn't changed her mind about keeping the boys overnight. As dearly as she loved them, it was good for them to spend some time away from her every once in a while. It was good for her, too. She opened the door and was surprised to see Munch.

"Hey, Uncle Munchie." She left the door open for him to come in, and hurried back to her sauce. She didn't want it to taste scorched.

"What are you doing here? Not that I mind, of course, but I thought you and Briscoe were heading up to the cabin today. Did you guys change . . ." She looked up at him and stopped cold at the look on his face.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

He hesitated for only a second. "It's Fin."

Immediately, she knew what he meant, but refused to acknowledge it. "What do you mean? What about Fin?"

The part of her mind that feared the worst slammed shut on the possibility. Munch, knowing her proclivity for closing herself off from things she didn't want to face, gently took her by the arms and looked her in the eyes.

"He's hurt, Sam. We need to get to the hospital. _Now_."

She caught the urgent tone in his voice. "Is he alive?" She whispered the words, afraid to hear the answer but needing to know all the same. Munch didn't lie.

"As far as I know. But it's bad. We need to get going." He walked around her and turned off the burner before leading her out the door.

Sam sat in silence on the way to St. Vincent's while Munch relayed what he knew. Apparently he and Briscoe had decided to make nostalgic stops at their old stomping grounds, the 16th and 27th precincts respectively, before heading off for their weekend fishing trip. They were at the One Six when the 10-13 call came through. When he learned that it was Fin, he tried to find out how he was, but all he could get from someone at the scene was that Sergeant Tutuola had taken two in the chest while protecting his partner, and that it was bad. Munch had then immediately left to collect her.

"So he could be dead."

Nearly in shock, and unaware that she had spoken aloud, the thought spilled from her without the slightest hint of emotion. She felt herself starting to go faint, and grabbed onto the dashboard to steady herself. _He can't be gone._ She repeated the mantra over and over in her head to keep from fading. Munch spoke to reassure her.

"Someone would have called me. We'll find out more when we get there. I'm sure everything is going to be fine." Contrary to his nature, and because Fin meant more to him than he was willing to admit publicly, Munch had abandoned his normally fatalistic outlook, and was choosing instead to be optimistic.

"Tutuola's tough. You'll see. He'll pull through this." She nodded, thinking he sounded more like he was trying to convince himself rather than her, then stared straight ahead, willing the car to move faster.

Sam encountered a wall of blue uniforms as she stepped off the elevator onto the surgical floor. A blue wall that parted like the Red Sea as she and Munch made their way to the desk. Sandoval intercepted them.

"He's in surgery." Mike was torn between wanting to comfort Sam and the guilt he felt over Fin's condition. "He's been in there for a while, but they haven't told us anything." He shook his head, then took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry. I know it should be _me_ in there."

Sam studied his face. Although Fin had never let on about it to him, she knew that he was very fond of his partner. More so than he had ever been of Deuthorn or Sanders, who had come after him. She herself had even invited Mike over to the penthouse a few times for dinner. Fin wouldn't want him blaming himself; particularly since Fin taking those bullets had more to do with _him_ than it had to do with Mike.

"This isn't your fault. He wouldn't want you feeling guilty about it." She looked around absently, then headed for the waiting room.

Munch gazed into Sandoval's guilt-ridden face, and decided to spare him. Initially, he had wanted to lay into him for not having checked Fin's shooter for a second piece in the first place, but now realized that Mike would have enough to deal with as it was. He knew first-hand the self-inflicted anguish Mike was going to go through for being the one who walked away. In lieu of the reprimand, he gave Sandoval's shoulder a squeeze then went to join Sam.

He found her seated in a corner of the room. It, too, was filled with uniforms, as well as several members of Fin's department- both on and off duty. Despite the fact that Fin very rarely socialized with anyone outside his immediate circle of friends, most people in the precinct respected him as a cop, and had come here to show their support.

Sam closed her eyes and listened to the sound of their mingled voices:

"Hey, if anyone can survive two hits to the chest, it's Tutuola."

"He was a good cop. _Is_ a good cop. One of the best . . . "

"You know, he never had much to say, but you always knew where you stood with him."

"He's tough. Strong. He'll pull out of this and be up in no time."

"Sam?"

Sam opened her eyes to see George Huang kneeling in front of her. "I stopped in at the station and Elliot told me what happened. He and Olivia will be here as soon as they can." He studied her for a moment then took her hand.

"Let's go for a walk."

"What?" She looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. "A walk?" She looked around.

"I can't . . . I have to be here." A sudden thought came to her. "_The boys_ . . ." She closed her eyes again.

"I have to call his mother . . . and Dorian . . . I . . . "

Munch placed a hand on her arm. "I already took care of all that. The boys are going to stay with their aunt until we pick them up. The Tutuolas and Dorian are on their way." He gave her arm a pat.

"Go get some air. I'll come get you if we hear anything." George pulled her to her feet, and she let him lead her out into the hall to a quiet corner.

"I know Munch is here, but I wanted you to know that you're not alone in this."

"Alone?" She laughed lightly and looked down the hall to where police personnel spilled out of the crowded waiting room. "I'm not. There are tons of people here."

"But I'm here for _you_."

Sam blinked back a few tears and hugged him. "Thank you."

George smiled, then nodded. He walked her further down the hall, bought her a soda from a machine, then let her sit quietly with her thoughts. It was somewhat of a relief to her to not have to put on a brave front for everyone. When she was ready, he took her back to the waiting room.

Denise and Vernon had arrived while she was out. Dorian and his wife, Lisa, came in a few minutes later. They exchanged hugs, then Sam sat hand in hand with Fin's mother while they all silently prayed for his well being.

"Mrs. Tutuola?" Everyone stood as the surgeon entered the room. Sam took a step forward.

"Yes. How is he?"

"We could talk out here . . . ?" Dr. Carter offered her the privacy of the hall. Sam took a quick look around. She knew that at that moment she was sharing Fin with everyone in the room.

"It's okay. Just tell me."

"We removed two bullets from your husband's chest. The first shattered a rib upon entry, but did minimal damage to any soft tissue. The second was the one we were concerned about. It was lodged in his heart muscle, but we got it out."

"So he's going to be okay?"

Dr. Carter nodded. "He'll be down for a while, but barring any major complications, he should make a full recovery."

There was an audible sigh of relief around the room. Sam stood in the center of the circle of family that hugged and held on to her. She wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh or cry.

Sam stood outside Fin's hospital room door listening to Munch read to him from the day's paper. Not having left his side since he came out of surgery, she'd been there now for nearly forty-eight hours.

"It says here," Munch read from an article, "that during the course of a mugging yesterday, the overweight victim knocked her attacker down, then sat on him until the police arrived. Now he's threatening to sue her for assault. Can you believe that?"

"Why are you reading me this crap?" Fin's voice was still a little weak.

"Well forgive me for trying to interject a little levity into your day. I could stop altogether if it's annoying you that much."

"Nah, nah . . . Just read me the sports, though."

Munch sighed as he turned the pages. "I'm so underappreciated."

Sam smiled as she entered the room. "Glad to hear things are getting back to normal." She walked over to Fin's bedside and tucked in his blankets before leaning over and kissing him lightly.

"The doctor says you should be able to go home in a day or two, but you'll still need to be on bed rest." Fin started to protest, but she cut him off. "No arguments." She straightened up.

"I need to go take a shower and change out of these clothes." She smoothed back his hair. "I'll only be gone for a little while."

"Take your time, Princess. I'll stay with him." Sam smiled gratefully at her uncle before turning back to Fin.

"I'll be back in an hour; two at the most."

Munch started to read again as she left the room. "Did you know that New York City now has more than eight million people living within its five boroughs?"

"The _sports page_, Munch."

Sam entered the apartment making a mental list of all the things she needed to do. She wanted to have everything ready for Fin when he got home.

Suddenly thirsty as well as tired, she stopped in the kitchen for a drink before heading to the shower and saw that the pot containing the remnants of her aborted anniversary dinner was still on the stove. She took it over to the sink and dumped it. Watching the red sauce slowly run down the drain, her resolve finally broke, and she began sobbing uncontrollably.


	6. Chapter 6

Title: To Do His Part (6/6)

Author: Master F&M

Fandom: Law and Order: SVU

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Fin has left SVU and is back in Narcotics. Runs within the timeline of Infinity.

Disclaimer: Law and Order: SVU and all its characters belong to Dick Wolf. I just get to play with them

Author's Note: Sam is a character of my own creation. She does not exist on the show.

Feedback: Please give some. For entertainment purposes only.

CHAPTER 6

Sam checked the list of errands she'd made for herself to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything. She had to schedule her time wisely. She'd been doing a lot of running around in the past couple days, getting things for Fin that he either wanted or needed, and now had to take care of some of her other chores and appointments. She didn't mind the extra work, though. She was just happy Fin was alive and doing well at home.

He had been out of the hospital now for several days, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep him in bed and away from work, but she was adamant about him resting in order to heal. She'd even given dire warning to everyone who came to see him: no discussions about work, or anything work-related. _Or else_.

Despite her protectiveness, however, Sam had been careful not to fret over him too much. She knew how important it was for him to be the one others came to for help, and didn't want to hurt his pride by making him feel weak or dependant. Instead, she'd called his mother and asked _her_ to do the fretting. Denise had been happy for the opportunity to baby her son again, and Fin had allowed her to do it. Proud or not, nearly everyone wanted their mother to fuss over them when they weren't feeling well.

Sam was very grateful for all the support the Tutuola clan had given her since the whole ordeal began; particularly, during those first few days when she'd spent every minute at the hospital with Fin. Gerrie had kept the boys with her until Sam could explain to them what had happened. Naturally, they'd been very upset, but not nearly as shocked as they could have been. They understood what it meant for their father to be a cop. Nevertheless, Sam had kept a close eye on them, and was relieved to see that they were doing better now that Fin was home and they could see for themselves that he was going to be okay.

Sam walked back to their bedroom to see if Fin needed anything before she left. Just as she entered the room, he stuffed something under his blankets. Sam eyed him suspiciously.

"What was that?"

"What?" Fin was the picture of innocence.

"Whatever you just shoved under the blankets."

"Nothing. It's nothing." He tried to change the subject. "You heading out?"

"Odafin Tutuola," she was having none of it, "that better not be a case file."

Fin sighed then pulled back the covers. "Don't worry. It ain't." He revealed a ball of yarn, knitting needles, and a swatch of the project he had begun. Sam stared at them.

"Is that . . . ?" Fin answered before she could finish the question.

"Yeah, it is." He picked up the needles to show he wasn't embarrassed and started working again. Sam's mouth fell open.

"_You knit_?" She sat down on the bed and stared at him in disbelief. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"It ain't exactly something I go spreading around." His fingers moved deftly as he worked the yarn. "It just never came up."

Sam watched him for a while. "When did you learn?"

"When I was a kid. See, I had this cousin, Emma, who used to visit at my grandmother's every summer. She was always getting into trouble. Nanna used to say she just needed to find something to focus all her restless energy on; something to hold her attention. So one day, after Emma had gotten into some trouble with the neighbors, Nanna sat her down and showed her how to knit. After that, whenever Emma came over, Nanna would make her sit still with her for at least an hour and practice her knitting. I made the mistake of laughing at her, having to sit there like an old lady, so Nanna made me do it, too. She didn't make me knit, but after a while it got boring just sitting there, so . . . " He shrugged.

"I got pretty good at it."

"So I see." Sam followed his fingers some more. "Did your mother bring you this stuff?"

"Yeah. I figured since I had to lie here anyway . . . " He left the rest unsaid and concentrated on his counting. Sam smiled at him. Married for ten years, and he was still full of surprises.

"Well, I think it's very sexy."

Fin looked up at her and smiled back. "Yeah? You want me to make you somethin'?"

She was tickled by the idea. "_Sure_. What do you have in mind?"

Fin's glance lingered over her. "I don't think I have time to try a nightie." She laughed.

"But how about a scarf?"

She leaned in and kissed him. "That would be great."

Fin looked at her for a moment longer before going back to his knitting. "Don't say anything about this, alright? I don't want anybody riding me about it, or giving me any grief."

"Whom would I tell?"

He began ticking them off. "Munch, Huang, Tori . . . " Sam laughed again.

"_Okay_. Your deep, dark secret's safe with me."

"Thanks." He gave her a small smile. "Maybe I'll start on that nightie for you when I'm on my feet again."

Sam smiled back before her expression turned more serious. "Have you given any thought to what you're going to do when you are? About work?"

Fin put the knitting down. "What do you mean? I plan on going back to the department."

Sam looked away. "To Narcotics?"

He paused for a second, then spoke softly. "Baby, you knew that's what I was gonna do."

"But does it have to be? You just took the lieutenant's exam. I'm sure you'll pass. With your promotion, couldn't you go to another department? Do you _have_ to go back there?"

Fin saw the worry in her eyes, but, as much as he hated doing anything to hurt her, he knew he couldn't walk away from where he felt he was needed.

"Yeah, Sam, I do. I _have_ to do this. All that dope floating around out there is a big problem on the streets, and there ain't enough people tryin' to do anything about stopping kids from getting mixed up with it." He took a minute to let her think about it.

"You were alright with this before. You said you were proud of what I did."

"I _was_ okay with it. I _am_ proud of you," her voice took on a hint of exasperation. "And I _know_ that there are a lot of kids out there who have no one looking out for them. I get that." She closed her eyes when they began to tear up.

"But that was before." She reached out and touched the bandages that covered his wounds. "That was before this." She shook her head, trying to make sense of her thoughts.

"I don't know what to think anymore, Fin. _I'm scared_. What if you get hurt again, . . . or worse? I'm afraid for you."

"I know, baby." Fin reached out and hugged her to him. "I know. But we can't let being afraid get in the way of doing what's right." Sam pulled away from him.

"You don't go through what I do every time you're out there."

"I don't? You don't think I worry about _you_ whenever that unit of yours takes you someplace you ain't supposed to be, to find out some information you ain't supposed to know?"

Sam looked at him, surprised that he had a better understanding of what she did than she had thought. "It's still not the same."

"Sam, listen." Fin took hold of her hand. "The only difference between our boys and some of those kids on the streets is that our boys have _us_. We're giving them all the help they need to make their own way; giving them a chance to build good lives for themselves." He paused.

"Most of these other kids don't have that, but if I can point them in the right direction . . . " He shook his head a little.

"I just can't walk away from that."

Sam stared into the face she loved. She'd known all about how he felt before they'd ever gotten involved. It was one of the reasons why she _did_ love him so much. She just wasn't sure she could live with it anymore. She sighed and squeezed his hand to show she wasn't angry.

"I gotta go. I want to get back before your dad drops the boys off." She caressed his cheek, then kissed him, resting her forehead on his for a few seconds afterward. They both spoke simultaneously.

"We'll work something out."

"It'll be okay."

They laughed at having shared the same sentiment, then Sam stood to go. "I'll be back in a couple of hours." She gave him a last look before going out the door.

"We have time to talk about this later."

Sam left the apartment and headed out in Fin's car. Her first stop was going to be at the community center where Fin volunteered one weekend a month. The kids had really come to count on him being there, so she and Fin had agreed that she would take his place if, for whatever reason, he couldn't make it on his assigned day. She knew she was a poor substitute, but with the lack of helpers, sometimes she was the difference between the center remaining open for the day, or having to shut its doors.

Usually on his assigned Saturday, Fin spent a couple of hours there talking to the kids from his old neighborhood, subtly warning them, through stories from his job, about the dangers of drugs. He then returned the next day with the boys for a day of fun. He wanted his sons to see that there were a lot of children who were a lot less fortunate than they were, and he also wanted the kids at the center to see that it was possible to have a good time _and_ be clean of drugs.

Sam parked the car near the curb and got out. Though it wasn't what she would have described as a 'safe' neighborhood, she had gotten used to leaving the car without too much worry. Most of the people around there knew Fin and knew what he was about. In all the time that he'd been volunteering at the center, never once had anyone ever messed with his car, though those around his were frequently either stolen or broken into. He was respected here. It was for that reason that he insisted she always take _his_ car whenever she filled in for him.

She entered the building and looked around. As usual, it was filled. She took a moment to look at the faces of the kids, searching for any that she knew or particularly liked, before heading for the office. On the way, she was stopped by Trisha.

Trisha Collins was a little girl who, at the age of six, had already lived through a drug addiction that had been forced on her by her mother before she was ever born, the death of that mother, and the abuse of the foster family that had taken her in. Now living in a good home with people who cared about her, she still had trouble relating, and was often very quiet and withdrawn. Sam hadn't been at all surprised when she had taken to Fin.

"Hey, Trish." Sam stooped down and smiled at her. "How are you?"

Instead of answering, she handed Sam a hand-printed get well card. On the front cover was a picture of a little girl holding hands with a man wearing a badge. Both wore large smiles. On the inside, the girl was alone and sad. Appropriately for Trisha, there were no words written on the card, but Sam thought the message had gotten through loud and clear.

"Thank you, sweetie. I'll make sure he gets it. I know he misses you, too." Trisha gave her a small smile then wandered back to the other kids.

"She was really disappointed when I told her Sergeant Tutuola wouldn't be here today." One of the volunteers offered an explanation. "A lot of the kids were when we told them he'd gotten hurt." She extended her hand. "I'm Stephanie. Stephanie Moore."

Sam shook hands with her. "Nice to meet you. Are you working here today?"

"Yes. I just started volunteering a little while ago. My son," she paused to point him out to Sam, "was putting in some time here, then really got to like it. I figured me being here, too, was a good way to keep an eye on him." She looked at her son for a moment, then brought her eyes back to Sam.

"I owe Sergeant Tutuola a lot for helping to straighten him out some. For a while I thought I might be starting to lose him to the streets." She laughed.

"I'm not sure what he said to Jamal, but my son's always saying now that he's got to do things right or he'd better watch it, or 'Mr. T' will get him." Sam smiled back at her. She wasn't exactly sure what to say.

"Well, anyway," Stephanie began walking away. "Would you tell him that I said thank you, and that we all hope he gets better soon?"

"Of course." Sam watched her go back to her circle, then continued to the office. Rev. Burns, the director of the center, was at his desk working.

"How's that husband of yours?" He didn't believe in wasting words.

"Getting better every day." She held up the card from Trisha. "This should really speed things up."

"Is that right? Then by all means, give him all of them."

He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out several stacks of cards: some were store-bought, but most were homemade. All were from kids wishing Fin would get well soon.

Sam got back to the penthouse a little behind schedule. She'd stayed at the center longer than she had intended to. Worried that the boys might be upset that she hadn't been home when they'd gotten there, she hurried to their rooms to check on them, only to find the rooms empty. She entered _her_ bedroom and saw them all sprawled across the bed watching cartoons with Fin. She leaned down to kiss Corey, who was closest to her.

"Mom!" Corey protested and pulled away. He was getting to the age where he no longer wanted hugs or kisses from his mother.

"I'm trying to watch this."

All five of them were glued to the classic Bugs Bunny/Daffy Duck episode where the cartoons debate over whether it's duck season or rabbit season. They laughed when Daffy tripped himself up.

"Daffy's funny." Deon made the announcement in case anyone didn't know.

"I think Bugs is funnier." Sam offered her opinion. The boys looked at her as if she were crazy.

"Everybody knows Daffy's _much_ funnier than the rabbit," Calvin informed her. "Right, Dad?"

Fin gave her a satisfied smile. "Yup."

Sam looked at her sons. Although they each, including the twins, had their own facial characteristics and features, they all still looked remarkably a lot like their father.

"So all of you like Daffy better than Bugs?" Each answered in the affirmative. She looked at them a little more.

"You do know you're half Munch, too, don't you?"

Fin laughed at the question. "Alright, guys." He shooed them off the bed. "Go finish watching in your rooms. Let me talk to your mom for a while."

The boys left and raced to their rooms to catch the ending. Sam watched them go.

"Why do I get the feeling that if we were all on a sinking boat with only five vests, that I'd be out of luck?" She put the bag she was carrying down next to the bed and laid down beside Fin. He laughed.

"Nah, baby, it's not like that. In fact, we'd probably tie them all together and put you on top of it just so you wouldn't get wet." Now it was Sam's turn to laugh.

"_That's good_. I like that one." She gazed into his smile for a moment.

"I met Stephanie Moore today."

"Yeah? Jamal's mom?"

"Ah-huh. She asked me to thank you. Apparently, whatever you've been doing with him has been working. He's staying out of trouble."

"Good." Fin nodded his head. "He's a good kid. He just needs to not make any stupid mistakes."

"Well, then I guess he's lucky he has you looking after him." She reached down and pulled the bag she'd brought in onto the bed.

"These are for you." She dumped the cards in his lap. "They're from your other kids at the center. They all miss you. Especially Trisha."

Sam watched as he picked out Trisha's card, looked at it, then looked through the others. He was right. There was no way he could walk away from those kids now. They respected, listened, and looked up to him, and more importantly, they needed him; even if it was just to remind them of what was right. Whether she liked it or not, Fin had a calling. She couldn't reasonably expect him not to heed it.

Fin turned his head toward her when she stroked his cheek.

"You're a good cop, Fin. And an even better husband and father." She snuggled in closer to him. "I'm sure you'll do everything you can to protect yourself when you're out there, so that you can come home to us."

"So you're going to be okay with it? With me being in Narc?"

"Yeah." If, she'd decided on the ride home, Fin felt he needed to do his part to help make the world a safer place for kids, then she would do hers by letting him.

"Just promise me you'll be careful?" She looked up at him. "We kind of missed our tenth anniversary, you know. You owe me one hell of a shindig for our twentieth."

Fin laughed and hugged her to him. "Alright. I promise. In ten years _I'll_ throw the anniversary party."

Satisfied, Sam smiled to herself. _Fin always kept his promises._


End file.
